


Peppermint and Memories

by Rhinozilla



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, a few years post-series, because dammit these two deserve something happy, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhinozilla/pseuds/Rhinozilla
Summary: Carol and Daryl spend a lazy Christmas evening together at home. Carol reminisces while Daryl tries to complete a challenge.





	

Carol’s view of the living room was horizontal, and she was contentedly drowsy as her view went up and down with Daryl’s breathing, where her head was pillowed on his chest. The room was humming with the white noise of a crackling fire in the hearth and the whistle of wind in one of those evasive drafty spots that they hadn’t been able to find.

The flicker of light from the fire caught on the tinsel that Judith had excessively draped on the little tree. The light stretched farther to the frosted windowpanes, making the ice around the sill shimmer. The air was still scented with the aroma of Daryl’s venison stew and Carol’s cinnamon cookies. She could smell the peppermint thick on Daryl’s breath.  
Michonne had challenged him to eat, in one sitting, one of those candy cane logs that were nearly nine inches long and half an inch wide. From where she was lying on top of him on the couch, she could see the one inch of it left in his hand, one end licked down to a point. Surrender looked imminent. She smirked and snuggled more into him.

“Are you giving up?” she teased, poking his forearm.

Daryl grunted and lifted the mint, tossing it into his mouth. He made a tortured noise as he sucked on what was left of it cane. “Who invented these things? Ugh.”

“Michonne went home an hour ago. You don’t have to finish it,” she stated.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he said, trailed his fingers up and down her back. “My mouth is numb.”

“Oh no,” Carol murmured, pushing herself up with her elbows on either side of him. “That sounds serious. I should investigate that.”

Daryl snorted, and Carol leaned in closer, kissing him softly. His lips were sticky from the candy, and she could taste the peppermint. The kiss was languid and slow, the kind that lasted like they had all the time in the world to enjoy it. The evening had left them with a Christmas hangover from the festivities of the day with the rest of the group. So Carol was content to just lay on the couch with him and drift in the laziness of the moment.

Eventually though, the kiss hummed to a natural close, and Carol withdrew, smacking her lips together and grinning.

“You taste like diabetes,” she stated.

Daryl’s response was to bite into the remains of the candy cane in his mouth, making a loud crunching noise. He wiggled his eyebrows a bit, and she laughed, settling her head down on his shoulder.

The snow was coming down heavily outside, from what she could see. Thick, fluffy clusters were painting the porch white and turning the world beyond the fence a dreary blue hue. The contrast with the warm glow of the fire made her feel cozy and safe.

Not bad for their first Christmas celebration since the Turn.

Wow…that had been nearly six years ago. Six years since the Turn, since they had actually acknowledged any holidays, since they had felt stable and safe enough to enjoy a day off like this. She squinted a bit and thought back to her last Christmas seven years ago.

The sting of the memories from the old world had faded, and nostalgia had started to tint them. It still hurt to remember the way things had been, what she had lost, things that could never be now…But she didn’t want to forget Sophia, didn’t want to exile the memory of her daughter to some dark, forbidden place in her mind. 

She still didn’t talk about her much. Most of the people in her world now had never known her little girl, so in a way, it was up to her to keep Sophia’s memory alive. It had taken years for her to reconcile with the other ghosts that haunted her. It had taken even longer for Carol to allow herself to remember her daughter in a positive light, without being crushed by her grief.

So she let herself remember now, where she felt warm and safe in Daryl’s arms, in their home, in this life that they had built together.

Her last Christmas with Sophia had been wonderful. It had just been the two of them, since Ed had been out of town for…whatever reason, she didn’t bother to remember. It had actually been the weekend before the 25th. They had made candy cane and chocolate chip cookies. They had made a hodge podge of other food out of whatever was in the fridge and cupboards. That had resulted in a casserole of scalloped potatoes, corn kernels, chopped onions, peas, and chicken nuggets absolutely slathered in cheese. Sophia had dubbed it the Frankenstein Bake, and it had become their traditional dish any night it was just the two of them together.

Maybe Carol could make that dish for New Year’s this year…maybe substituting the chicken nuggets for venison or whatever Daryl could catch…It might be nice to start off the new year with something nice from her past.

The image of what Sophia might have looked like today flitted across the edge of her mind. Maybe side by side with Carol in the kitchen, singing Christmas songs and using a spatula for a microphone…Goading Daryl into eating the candy cane log. Maybe just Sophia and Daryl, the two most beloved people in her life, sharing the same space in her memory, together and happy and safe and all hers. She sighed and closed her eyes, giving herself that moment to dream of it.

“Y’still awake?” Daryl whispered.

“Hm,” she hummed in response.

He swallowed exaggeratedly. “I did it. I ate the whole damn thing. Look.”

Carol lifted her head, and Daryl stuck his tongue out, showing off his empty mouth.

“Oh god,” Carol snorted and groaned. She made a fist and held it up like a microphone. “This is Carol Dixon reporting on a Christmas miracle. Daryl Dixon has become the first man to successfully eat an entire candy cane log in one sitting. How do you feel about your achievement, Mr. Dixon?”

Daryl ran his tongue over his teeth, and his expression soured at the aftermath in his mouth.

“I regret everything.”

Carol sniggered and squeezed her arms around him, giving him a short kiss on the jaw. “Hm, I don’t.”

Daryl eyed her, softened, and smiled, tugging her in and kissing her temple. The kiss left a sticky peppermint feel to her skin, and she squinted one eye with a giggle. She lay back down, and they both comfortable again on the couch, ready to waste the rest of the day away right where they were.


End file.
